


Farewell

by Detochkina



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur is gone, Gen, Post-Finale, a lot of love, spec of hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:32:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detochkina/pseuds/Detochkina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin prepares Arthur for his final send-off.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Merlin didn’t pray. Arthur was his religion. And now that he was gone, there were no words significant enough or any gods worthy enough to worship.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on Tumblr a couple of weeks ago and didn't want to lose it. Ragsstone looked it over. Thank you, darling. 
> 
> This is not closure, just my way of dealing with the finale.

Merlin refused to use magic as he prepared Arthur for his final send-off. 

He tracked the horses so he could bury his best friend, _his King_ , in proper attire, as he deserved. He dressed him into a clean cloak and his ceremonial gloves. The gloves Arthur wore when he pulled Excalibur from the stone – when he became the Once and Future King. 

He washed Arthur’s face. From blood, from grime – all the sins away. 

Merlin had to stop and start many times as he readied Arthur for his last journey. Because he hadn’t slept for days and was exhausted. Because once denial and disbelief were over, he spent hours in a stupor, and Arthur’s body became gradually stiff with _rigor mortis_ and too heavy to carry. Because, as he was dressing Arthur, the weight of grief was so unbearable, there were moments when Merlin couldn’t breathe or move, and he’d just black out. Because he’d cried so much his eyes were swollen shut. It took a long time to get Arthur ready. 

Merlin didn’t pray. _Arthur_ was his religion. And now that he was gone, there were no words significant enough or any gods worthy enough to worship.

Merlin didn’t want to let Arthur go. He stood in the water stock still – so still there wasn’t a ripple around them. The sun rose and beamed across Arthur’s face, his armor blinding Merlin’s tired eyes. He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t let go of the edge of the boat, even though his fingers hurt from gripping it too hard for too long. He stood in silence.

Then he talked.

He told Arthur he was going to miss him. _Already do, so much, Arthur. Arthur._ That he hated the bloody prat for leaving him. That he would give up his magic. He would, if it only could bring Arthur back. Why hadn’t Arthur held on for just a little bit longer?

He cursed his magic.

He cursed the Great Dragon.

He cursed Uther.

He apologized. For killing his sister, Morgana. For wishing Mordred dead since he was a child. For turning Mordred to evil. For not being sorry for killing Agravaine. For breaking his promise to Arthur to always protect him. For still being alive. Because he was meant to die by Arthur’s side. Not to live forever.

He thanked him. For the best ten years of his life. For the privilege of being his best friend. For forgiving him.

He didn’t tell him he loved him. For that he wanted Arthur to be alive. He wanted to see Arthur’s eyes when he said it – and wanted to hear Arthur say it back. _He believed._

He told him he’d wait for him. The prat would probably make him wait a thousand years. _Because he is a stubborn clotpole_. Was. _Will be again._

Merlin promised him he’d never be too far. Because it might have been Arthur’s fate to leave Merlin today, but it was also his destiny to rise again. And it was Merlin’s to be by Arthur’s side, always.

And he wouldn’t change a thing.


End file.
